


Leave the Sweater

by NerdyGrlWonder



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Actors, Angst and Fluff and Smut, But Mostly Smut, F/M, Shady chat induced, nothing but a sweater
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2018-03-13 20:47:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3395822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdyGrlWonder/pseuds/NerdyGrlWonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With their future projects unclear and their deepening feelings going unspoken, what will become of Hollywood stars Abbie Mills and Ichabod Crane?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This entire Smutty McSmut-Smut fic was induced during a shady hollow chat. Words cannot express how much I love this fandom. Special thanks to MissMaudlin, Sleepynegress, and Ellethom1 for stalking me until I finished it. Also thanks to the Shady Hollow chat peeps in general. So many good smut ideas come from our thirst. Cheers!

This could very well be the last time they see each other again. This scene, this conversation that they had as “Nicole” and “Tom”, could be the final exchange between the star-crossed lovers. The fate of their show was in the balance and so far, the chances of renewal seemed a toss-up at best.

Abbie Mills and Ichabod Crane had been the talk of the town for two years now. People classified their chemistry as _lightening in a bottle_. Some even went as far as to speculate whether or not it was more than just a great friendship. While both Abbie and Crane – as he preferred to be called – gracefully avoided answering questions like that. Still, it didn’t stop people from speculating and creating their own romances in their heads.

As close as they had grown, and as much as she wanted there to be more to their relationship, Abbie kept some emotional distance between she and Crane. This was especially true now that she didn’t know when if ever she’d see him again. She’d been pulling away from him for weeks now, telling herself that it was the smart thing to so; it would hurt less if she pulled away.

Ichabod could tell something was different. She wouldn’t pat his shoulder anymore. She would play on her phone between takes instead of chatting with him. Abbie would create excuses for why they couldn’t hang out or grab coffee anymore. It was eating him up inside. He was completely in love with her. Sure, he had never told her how he felt, but that didn’t make his feelings any less real. Most of all though, he missed his friend.

This was the last chance he may ever have to tell her how he felt and he’d be damned if he didn’t do it. Abbie saw him approaching her trailer and immediately shut down. She knew he was coming to say goodbye. She knew that he’d want to get together for a last hoorah, but she didn’t think she could handle saying goodbye to him, especially not after they filmed “the hug”. She poured all of herself into that moment. Even if she was pretending to be Nicole and he Tom, she was still Abbie, giving every ounce of her love and affections to Ichabod. She was trying to tell him with that hug, that she was in love with him and the thought of them never working together again, killed her inside.

“Abbie, I’m glad I caught you before you left.”

“Yeah, you did, but I’m heading home right now so…” Abbie steeled herself, walking over to Ichabod and giving him the briefest, most chaste hug. “It’s been great working with you Crane. See you in a few months, maybe.”

Abbie turned her back on him, hoping that she could make a clean getaway. That hope was dashed the second she felt his hand on her arm.

“Is that it? Is that all I get; a pat on the back and a “nice to know you?”

“What more do you want?”

“I just thought…” Ichabod’s shoulders fell, as did the hand holding onto Abbie. The look on his face made her heart break but she was an actress. She could pretend that it didn’t affect her. “We’ve grown so close, you and I. That is until recently. Have I done something to upset you or offend you in any way?”

“Of course not. I’m just really tired. Today was a lot and I just want to go home and sleep. Alright?”

Ichabod gave her a weak smile and a nod. She returned his smile and turned to leave again when she heard him.

“I love you, Abbie.” The world came crashing down. Even with all of the hustle and bustle on set as the crew broke down their equipment, Abbie heard nothing but the sound of her own heart hammering in her ears. She wanted to keep walking but her feet betrayed her. “I confess, I’ve been in love with you almost from the moment we met, and I can’t just let you walk away without telling you that.”

This is all she ever wanted to hear from him. She felt the same way as he did. She wanted nothing more than to be with him, to share their lives together, but who was she kidding? She’d done the overseas, long-distance thing. It always ended in heartbreak and she wasn’t sure her heart had that much left to give. Abbie hoped keeping her back to him wouldn’t let him sense her desperation and sorrow.

“Aren’t you going to say something?”

“I’m sorry, Crane. I just don’t feel the same way and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t speak to me or contact me again unless the show gets picked up.”

She didn’t know what the expression on his face was. She didn’t know how deeply she’d wounded him. All Abbie knew was that she needed to get home. She needed to walk out in her garden to clear her head. She needed to curl into a ball and cry. She needed to get away from this man who had charmed his way into her heart, only to leave her wanting more. Hoping into her car without a backwards glance, Abbie headed home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short but it should also be the last super angsty chapter. Everything heats up after this.

Abbie was one of his best mates. Never in his life had he ever met someone with whom he just clicked – not on this kind of level. He could tell her anything and wanted to tell her everything. They bounced ideas off of each other and could communicate with little more than a glance. But there was more to it than just being friends.

He had begun to fall in love with her from the moment they locked eyes. There was something about her; she was so open and warm that pulled him in. At the same time as he was getting to know her as a person, he was dreaming of getting to know her _whole_ person. His need for her didn’t hit a fevered pitch until the first time he hugged her.

It was on set as part of an emotional scene. It was a gentle embrace but it was one that would ignite an inferno within him. He could recall the scent of jasmine that wafted up from her neck as it mingled with the coconut from her hair. The contours of her petite form were forever ingrained in his memory – how each of her peaks seemed to match the valleys on his own body. That scene, that embrace was when he that Abbie would forever hold his heart and soul.

They had always had an electrically charged, fun back-and-forth banter but that moment changed everything for him. He was no longer able to hear her laugh without feeling warmth spread through him. It became harder and harder to keep from touching her casually. Whenever she’d sigh or groan when she was tired, he couldn’t help but imagine if she’d make the same sounds as she rode him to climax.

It felt as if his soul had splintered when with her back to him, she asked him to not seek her out or speak to her again unless it was for work. When she got in her car and rode off without even sparing him a last glance, the world fell away from him. He had been dreading going back to England simply because he knew he there was a chance he wouldn’t see Abbie again. Now, he relished the prospect. He needed to distance himself from his desire. Going home would enable him to clear his head. At least, he prayed that it did.


	3. Chapter 3

Abbie had spent the better part of an hour in the fetal position crying for what would never be. She needed to get it out, she needed to vent, but she only gave herself that hour. There were plans to make and things to pack. Abbie could only give so much of herself over to heartache. She knew she deserved more time to grieve for the end of her friendship and anything else that may have come along with it – and she would take the time at some point. That point just wasn’t right now.

Abbie was sorting through her laundry later that evening when she found it. That damned ugly sweater that Crane was so fond of. It would have reminded her of a Heathcliff Huxtable sweater if it looked more appealing and had brighter colors. Crane had spilled beer all over it at a cookout she held for the cast months ago. Apparently, they had both forgotten about it.

Even though she had washed it, when she held it to her nose and inhaled its scent with her eyes closed, she could still smell him. Eyes, closed and holding it close, she wrapped the arms around her and pretended it was him, but it didn’t work. She needed more. She needed to breathe him in; to feel him. Slowly, she began stripping off her t-shirt, sweat pants and panties.

Taking Crane’s sweater in hand, she pulled it over her head and drew in the scent of him. She pushed the last pile of clothes onto the floor and crawled onto the bed. At first, Abbie just laid there, relishing the feel of the soft fabric against her skin, gently coaxing her nipples to a point. Closing her eyes, she sensually ran her hands over the sweater that covered her body, imagining that they were Crane’s hands.

As she relaxed into the bed, her hand traveled of its own accord to the apex between her legs. She ghosted a finger over her clit teasingly before adding more pressure. Licking her lips, she imagined that Crane was staring down at her as he used his deliciously long fingers on her. Picking up the pace, she moved her fingers to her slit and inserted one finger – then another.

Her breathing was getting faster and faster. Abbie pumped her fingers in and out while taking her free hand to pinch and caress her breasts. All she could see behind her eyes was Ichabod. She saw the way he laughed at her jokes. She swore she could feel the sensations his hands would make when he’d pat her knee or take her hand in his. She replayed their hug over and over again in her mind and she stroked herself harder and harder.

 It was too much and not enough. Letting out a sob, Abbie stopped herself and sat up abruptly.  She sat there waiting for the tears to come, when she spotted her phone on top of a basket of folded laundry. Ichabod’s plane was scheduled to leave around eight in the morning. He was flying back to England and she may never see him again. It was now or never.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A text conversation, no matter how brief, can allude to a lot...

**Abbie** : Hey, I’m sorry about earlier.

            Could you come over?

 **Crane** : You made yourself pretty clear, Abbie

You didn’t want me to bother you

So I won’t

 **Abbie:** Please, Crane…

            ….

            I can’t leave it like this between us.

            Please come over?

            Let me apologize in person.

 **Crane** : Listen, I get it

I came on too strong

I crossed the line

You don’t have to apologize

 **Abbie** : Yes I do!

            Please! Please, Crane.

            I’m begging here.

            You know I don’t beg…

 **Crane** : Begging? That’s new!

You don’t beg for anything…

Ever!

 **Abbie** : Well I am now. Please

….

Pretty please??

 **Crane:** Is there a cherry on top?

 **Abbie** : A cherry and whipped cream!

 **Crane:** Oh, how can I say no to that?

 **Abbie:** I’m hoping that you can’t

And that you won’t

You know you wanna come over ;-)

 **Crane:** Only if you promise to lay it on

Really thick when I get there

 **Abbie:** Promise ;-)

            Really thick

            Super thick!

            You’ll love ever moment of my groveling

 **Crane:** Be there in 20


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nothing but a sweater and some sultry confessions

The knots that had been growing in her belly from the moment Ichabod said he’d come over, tightened further when she heard him knock. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door poking just her head around as he came in.

“Abbie, I’m sorry that I just blurted out what I did earlier. It’s just that…” Ichabod barged in, head down and made his way towards the dining room table where they usually shared a drink and a story or two. He was prepared to barge in and try to excuse away his declaration of love for her. He was armed with a speech he’d rehearsed from the moment she pulled away from the set earlier all the way to his drive over to her place.

He was ready for Abbie to blow it off and for them to put the awkward moment behind them. He wasn’t however, ready to turn and see her leaning against her now closed front door in nothing but his favorite sweater.

The taupe sweater with blue horizontal lines and red accents hung loose and low on her, falling just above her knees. She had rolled the sleeves up so that her hands didn’t swim in it. The taupe stood out against her smooth, rich skin and her hair fell in waves around her face. She looked at him through hooded eyes and smiled coyly. The picture of her standing there took his words and breath away.

“I have a confession to make,” Abbie began. “I was folding up my laundry, getting it ready to be packed away when I found your sweater. I always loved this sweater on you. You always looked so comfortable and relaxed in it. The way it clung to your chest and shoulders…it was almost like a second skin on you.”

Abbie pushed herself off of the door and slowly padded towards where Ichabod stood. “I expected it to smell like booze and fabric softener considering how much beer you spilled on it.” She chuckled to herself and looked down as she smiled at the memory. “But when I brought it to my face and breathed in, it still smelled like you. It smelled warm and spicy and just a bit like a leather bound book.”

She took another step, locking her eyes onto his. “And in that moment, all I could think about was you and how I wish you were here with me – laughing with me, holding me, kissing me.” She stood directly in front of him now. His lips were parted and his breathing was shallow. She reached out her hands and coasted them up his chest to the back of his head, and then back down again.

“I’ve wanted to hold you, to kiss you, to feel you inside of me for so long, Crane. I was just afraid that if we crossed that line, we’d ruin what we had; I was afraid we’d never be the same.” She leaned in, her lips mere inches from him. As he exhaled, she took him in. His eyes moved from hers down to her full lips. His hands moved of their own volition to the swell of her ass.

“What changed your mind?”

“I’m not afraid anymore.”     


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let the smutty times commence!

Abbie leaned in, wrapping her arms around Crane’s neck and pressing her body into his. Ichabod could barely move. He’d imagined this moment playing out so many times but he never thought it would actually happen. He watched entranced as Abbie flicked the very tip of her tongue out to taste his bottom lip.

She raked the edges of her finger nails up his neck and into his hair eliciting a violent shiver from him. It was enough to send Crane over the edge. Leaving the curves of her ass for later exploration, he cupped her face in his hands and assailed her mouth. His tongue probed her mouth, leaving not an inch unexplored – and Abbie gave as much as he, yanking his hair and biting his lip.

Crane maneuvered Abbie around so that her back was to the dining room table. Of her own accord, she wiggled back so that she was sitting just on the edge of the table. He ran his hands up the inside of her thighs to her pussy and realized that she wasn’t wearing any underwear and she was dripping wet. He plunged two fingers inside of her without any warning causing Abbie to moan into his mouth. He smiled and pulled back from their kisses.

“I’ve always wondered about that.”

“Always wondered about what?” Abbie breathed out.

“What your moans sounded like when you were turned on.”

With a sultry smile, Abbie tilted her head to the side, trying to maintain eye contact while Crane’s fingers continued their hard strokes.

“And do they meet your expectations?”

“I’ll let you know once I hear the sound you make when you cum.”

Ichabod peeled his shirt over his head and then recaptured her mouth with his. Ever so slowly, he began to push his sweater from the middle of her thighs up over her hips. Each new section of skin he revealed, he would anoint with a lick, a kiss or a bite. He wanted to taste every part of her and remember it forever.

He started with the crease where her thigh met her hip, kissing it tenderly. Pushing the sweater further up her torso, he lapped from her navel to the line just below her breasts tasting the natural salt of her skin. Using just his thumbs, he finessed the sweater over the swell of her chest, revealing her perfectly shaped orbs to him.

 

Raising his gaze, but not his head, Ichabod locked eyes with Abbie as he darted his tongue out to taste the tip of her taut nipple. Her sharp inhale encouraged him to go further, drawing her succulent breast into his mouth and sucking. With his other hand, he ran the pad of his thumb from the underside of her right breast up to the nipple and rubbed in a circle. With each successive tug and motion Abbie gasped and moaned, throwing her head back in ecstasy.

Crossing her arms and reaching over his head, she went to draw the sweater up over her head when Ichabod stopped what he was doing and stilled her hands.

“No,” he whispered with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Leave the sweater.”

Abbie smiled back at his grin and dropped her hands from the sweater to move them to his belt buckle. In seconds, she had his pants undone and her hand wrapped firmly around his long, hard cock. He leaned in to kiss her again but she drew back, relishing the power she held over him. She stroked him leisurely drawing the tip of her thumb over the head, eliciting drops of precum and a groan from him.

“Fuck me, Crane.” She tightened her hand and ran her tongue over his lips. “Please. Please, Crane. I’m begging you.”

Ichabod took her hands in his and guided them to the edge of the table, folding her fingers over the sides for her to grip. He then pulled the sweater back down so that it pooled around her waist and tilted her ass to the perfect position for him to enter her. He stepped out of his pants and shoes in one fluid motion and then aligned himself at the entrance of her dripping pussy.

 

Wrapping Abbie’s left leg around his waist and drawing her right leg up over his shoulder, he slid inside her easily. It was like a homecoming. She had never felt this way before. Crane felt warm and heavy inside of her; he felt like the missing piece of a part of her soul that she never realized was gone.

He started off slow at first, each thrust deliberate and deep. Not once did he take his eyes from hers. He wanted to watch every emotion break across her face. Right now as he punctuated each stroke with a hard flick of her clit, he saw raw desire on her face. She leaned in and took his bottom lip between hers, sucking lightly.

As their pace increased, Crane’s patience with his sweater on Abbie’s body wore thin. He stripped it off her and tossed it aside as he took in all of her God given glory; if possible, it made him harder.

Abbie moved her arms, bracing them behind her on the table and brought her right leg down to complete the circle around Crane’s waist. She rolled her hips against him, building the friction against her clit and g-spot simultaneously.

“Oh God, Abbie…”

He wonton need and the way she moved snapped the last of his reserve. Crane grabbed her ass and pulled it off the table. There was no holding him back now. He pounded into her, digging his fingers into the flesh of hips and ass hard enough to possibly bruise. Where he started, she finished. For every moan she made, he would groan or sigh in response. From the angle he held her at he could watch every moment that they joined and it only succeeded in driving him further over the edge.

Abbie could feel her orgasm building. She tightened her legs even more around Crane’s waist, curling her toes. Every cell in her body was alight. Needing to feel as much of him as possible, Abbie abandoned the table and clung to his shoulders.

“Oh God Crane…” she panted out. “I’m gonna cum!”

“Cum for me Treasure.” He thrust harder and felt her tighten around him. Abbie buried her head in the crook of his shoulder and screamed his name, squirting her juices all over him. Crane kept thrusting, taking Abbie through her climax and bringing him to his.

Thankfully, they hadn’t moved too far from the table because when Crane came, he could feel his knees begin to buckle. He sat Abbie back on the edge of the table, quickly grabbed a chair, and sat himself down in between her legs. Both of them were panting as if they had just run a marathon.

When she’d regained some sense of composure, Abbie leaned down and planted a slow, sensual kiss on Crane’s lips.

“I have a confession to make,” Abbie began.

“Another confession, hmm? Okay, what is it?”

“I’m in love with you Ichabod Crane.”

A slow, brilliant smile spread across his face. For so long, he’d hoped that she’d return his affections. He’d dreamed that Abbie would express more than just a fondness and kinship with him. He’d wanted it for so long and it imagined her confession dozens of times. None of his dreams came as close to the perfection of this moment.

“I have a confession to make as well Abbie.”

“Hmm?”

“I’m ridiculously in love with you and have been from the moment I laid eyes on you.”

Tears welled up in her eyes but were blinked away when she closed her eyes to receive a sweet kiss.

“I also have another confession to make.”

“Oh really? And what’s that?”

“I really enjoyed hearing you beg.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so very sorry for my tardiness. Life got the better of me and longer fics were temporarily abandoned. I do hate unfinished things though and this fic in particular needed finishing. Hope you enjoy! The final chapter will be up shortly as well!!

When they had both regained their composure, Ichabod stood and scooped Abbie up into his arms. He’d been to her place so many times; navigating to her bedroom was an easy task. He crossed the threshold and took in the general state in front of him. There were boxes in various states of fullness lining the wall beneath her bay window. Stacks of clothes lay on the floor, her dresser and her bed.

He found the only free corner of bed space and gently sat her on it with a gentle kiss on the forehead before dashing away, scooping up each pile of clothes covering her blankets and laying them on top of the boxes along the window floor.

“What are you doing, Crane?”

“I know how hard you probably worked to pack this all up and I do _not_ want to be the reason you’re pissed off at the mess in the morning.”

Abbie smiled and scooted up the bed to the newly available space there. She watched Crane move around her room with alacrity, moving stacks of clothes off of her bed. She couldn’t help but giggle at the sight in front of her. Crane placed the last pile of clothes on the floor and turned to look at her with his arms folded over his chest.

“What exactly is so amusing Miss Mills?”

The incredulous look on his face, his state of complete undress and the fact that he was at half mast with his arms folded across his concavely pale chest made her burst out laughing. She brought her hands to her mouth to try and stifle her mirth but it wasn’t helping. She was laughing so hard, her eyes closed. If it hadn’t been for feeling the weight of the bed shift, she wouldn’t have even known that Ichabod was about to pounce.

A squeal of delight was all she could get out before he was on her. Pulling her down the bed and beneath his form, Ichabod relished feeling her supple body beneath his. He’d wanted this for so very long. Now that he had it, now that he had her in his arms, he never wanted to let her go. There was just one problem; he was due to board his flight back to London in just over twelve hours. There wasn’t enough time to spend with her.

Abbie saw the change register on his countenance. His brilliant smiled began to dissolve like sugar in warm water. She knew what he was thinking of because it was in her head too. Even as he took every ounce of her passion on the dining room table, she was thinking about the inevitable; he was leaving in the morning and this would likely be their first and last romantic interlude.

She refused to dwell in that notion. Abbie couldn’t allow herself to think about the “what ifs” and the likelihood that the man in her arms and this moment would be gone in a matter of hours.

“No.”

She smoothed away the worry lines that had formed on his brows. She brought her fingers up through his hair and pulled his forehead down to her lips, placing small, lingering kisses across his face, repeating “no” as if it was a mantra.

“No, no, no.”

Abbie brought her legs up over Ichabod’s hips, wrapping them around him and pulling him as close to her as she could. Her kisses became deeper and fiercer.

“Stay with me. Right now. Stay in this moment with me.”

Ichabod closed his eyes and just basked in the sensations. The feeling of Abbie’s soft lips gracing his skin lit it afire. Her hands gripping his shoulders felt like hot brands, forever leaving their mark on him. The feel of her wet core sliding against his now fully erect length made him feel like he was on the verge of spontaneously combusting.

“Stay with me…”

Abbie’s words were cut off as Ichabod’s lips crashed into hers. His tongue plundered her mouth and her throaty moans were his treasure. He braced his forearms on either side of her head, his hands brushing the strands of her hair that floated across her satin pillow. In one fluid push, he slid easily inside her, again swallowing her sounds with his tongue and lips.

He ran his right hand down the length of her body stopping only when he reached the back of her knee. He lifted her leg over his shoulder, planting a wet kiss against her knee then returned his hand to the luscious curve of her ass. Abbie’s moans had grown to cries with each slide Ichabod’s body made in and out of hers.

Abbie wrapped her fingers deep into Ichabod’s hair as she met Crane at every thrust. Shifting his weight to his haunches, Ichabod dropped Abbie’s leg from his shoulder and wrapped both of them around his waist. Gripping her hips in his massive hands, he used the leverage from kneeling on the bed and his own cadence to drive into her again and again.

“Oh God! You feel so amazing Abbie.”

Abbie rolled her hips into and in time with Ichabod, meeting everything movement head on. She could feel everything beginning to build up within her.

“Oh fuck... Crane… _ahh_!”

“Not yet. Stay with me, Abbie. Stay with me until the end.”

Ichabod backed off of his relentless pursuit just enough to keep Abbie from falling away from him into infinity. He ran his hands from her hips up over her breasts, thumbing each nipple to an almost painful peak. They floated over her shoulders and down her arms until he pulled her up to sit against his thighs.

“Ichabod,” Abbie whispered into his kiss, “let me cum. Please.”

Abbie guided his hands down to cup her ass and then wound her arms around his neck; one hand was entwined in his hair while the other dug into his shoulder blade. She ground herself against the full hardness of him. Ripples of pleasure coursed through her from inside and out, building in intensity as Ichabod pumped against her in counter pressure.

Ichabod pressed his forehead to Abbie’s. With each breath he took, he inhaled her pants and whimpers and vice versa. He could feel the muscles in his groin begin to tighten as Abbie clenched around him and cried out. He wanted to revel in watching her lose herself. Her body jerked against him and a series of loud, deep moans escaped her as her orgasm cascaded around her. He wanted to watch it all play out but his eyes betrayed him, clenching shut of their own volition at the intensity of his own release.

Ichabod pulled Abbie into his arms as they both shook and came down from their mutual high. Abbie leaned back, pulling him with her and they landed with an “oof” on her pillows. She felt the loss of him keenly as he pulled away to lie next to her.

The tears that she’d been trying to keep at bay rose in her eyes and began to spill over like a tidal wave. She turned her back to him, determined to keep him from seeing her like this. She’d done hung up and broken over a man before. She’d promised herself she never would again. Then again, she’d never felt as whole in her life as she did just now. That was a big part of the problem. She knew she probably would never feel this whole again.

He didn’t need to see her face or take notice of the way her shoulders gently shook to know that Abbie was crying. He didn’t need to glance her way because her tears were his as well. That’s why he had rolled away from her. He didn’t want her to feel the way he was: empty and hopeless. The one person in the world who completed him, who he now was sure he needed in his life more than air itself, would be ripped from him in the morning.

Ichabod didn’t want to burden Abbie with his desperation, but he refused to let her suffer alone. He spotted an errant blanket atop one of the piles beneath the window that he had moved. Hopping up to grab it, he quickly got back into bed. Arranging the blanket over their bodies, she slid behind Abbie, wrapped his arm around her, laced their fingers together and pulled her close. Planting a kiss on her neck, they both wept silently until sleep claimed them.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's read, commented, given me kudos, and pushed me to finish this fic. Special thanks to Abbiehollowdays/uss_ichabbie and Uneange1 for being my beta readers on the last two chapters and just being genuinely amazing in every way. I hope you all enjoy the ending! It's a long one;-)

Ichabod felt warm and light. He wanted to dive deeper into whatever feeling he was experiencing but something kept tugging at his consciousness. He tried to fight it, holding on tighter when he realized that the warmth he felt was Abbie’s petite form clinging to him— her left leg draped seductively over his hip and groin, her hand resting against his chest, and her head perfectly nestled against his neck.

This was how they had fallen asleep the second time that night. After crying themselves to sleep, they had awoken shortly after and sought each other out. No inch of skin went unexplored; neither of them left wanting. Ichabod looked down at Abbie’s sleeping face and thought of how beautiful she was, whether she was sleeping peacefully or crying out his name in ecstasy. It broke his heart anew.

It was still dark out, but Ichabod could feel the dawn rapidly approaching. He turned his head to the alarm clock Abbie kept next to her bed. It glared the time at him. It was ten minutes till six and he had to leave to catch his plane. He wanted to wake her, to pull her close to him and breathe in her intoxicating scent, tell her they’d find a way to make it work, that it would all be okay.

He didn’t.

Oh so slowly and ever so gently, he pried her sleeping form from his just enough to get out of bed without disturbing her. He stood for a moment and watched her shoulders rise and fall with each deep breath she took. Tendrils of her hair moved in the wake of her exhalation like the tide. He leaned over and kissed the spot in the middle of her shoulder blades that made her sigh. She did so then, but still didn’t wake.

Leaving her to her slumber, he headed back to the dining room to gather his clothes. While he fastened his belt, his eyes fell upon the discarded sweater that had started it all. Fingering it lightly and with a crestfallen smile, he walked it back into Abbie’s bedroom and laid it gently under her arm on the bed as she slept. He brought her arm to his lips one last time before placing it back down and walking out of the room and out of her home. If he was lucky, TSA wouldn’t give him shit for checking into an international flight less than 2 hours before it departed.

___________________________________

Abbie was sore all over, but not in an unpleasant way. This was the kind of richly decadent soreness that made you want to languish in bed all day. The sunrays falling across her lids had other plans however. She stretched and reached out to grab a hold of Ichabod and felt… nothing. Her eyes snapped open as she sat bolt upright. She had forgotten he had a plane to catch back home.

He was gone.

Abbie pulled the blanket up over her knees and brought them both to her chest. Wrapping her arms around herself, she took a deep breath and willed her tears not to fall. She laid her head on her knees and looked to the window. The branches of the tree outside waved softly to her as her flowers raised their faces toward the sun. It all seemed so still and perfect when really the world had just cracked and splintered into sawdust.

She cast her eyes down. Oddly colored stripes stood out against the russet throw on her bed, catching her eye. It was his sweater.

Snatching the sweater off of the bed, Abbie was prepared to throw it across the room in anger when she caught its scent from the still settling air around her. It smelled like him. Bringing it to her face, she breathed him in. It held his essence, but there was more. Beneath the unmistakable blend of tea, lavender and his natural musk was her own unique smell, the scent of jasmine and shea—the two entwined in each thread.

She didn’t even realize that she was keening loudly until she brought the sweater to her face again and it muffled the sound. Abbie couldn’t bring herself to regret her choices last night. She had put off telling Ichabod her feelings for long enough. She had done the right thing, but that didn’t make the pain any more bearable. She had wanted to tell him how she felt before he left. She thought she needed to feel him firmly in her arms and she did. It never occurred to her that it may rip her apart instead of making her feel better.

Abbie sat in her bed, snuggling Crane’s sweater, lost in her thoughts and time. The shifted angle of the sun told her she had been in a state of hopelessness for longer than was her want or need. Between the sun and her bladder, she needed to get out of bed. When she walked back into her room from the adjoining master bath, she grabbed the long and still damned sweater and pulled it over her head.

Abbie glanced at the clock. Eleven fifteen. He’d been gone now for at least five hours and she would have hundreds, possibly thousands more hours without him depending on the outcome of the show’s pickup. She needed to move on and do something with herself. Her body and brain felt like lead, but she willed her body to move. Numbly, she set her coffee maker to brew a full pot and headed to the dining room. The chairs were still askew from yesterday evening. Abbie blocked out the pang she felt at remembering her begging for sweet release and the feel of Ichabod giving it to her. She fixed the chairs and went back to wait for her coffee.

The second the machine in front of her beeped, she poured herself a generous cup, added a spoonful of Sugar In The Raw and headed out to her patio. Her patio brought her some semblance of peace. She’d planted rows and rows of flowers in her little bit of earth. Jasmine bloomed and mingled with the scent of roses, lavender and oleander. In the warm and humid North Carolina air, the smells wrapped around her and settled like a heated cloak.

When she closed her eyes, she could smell barbeque chicken on the grill and hear the sounds of the laughter of her friends and cast mates. She wished she could go back in time and experience it all over again.

“I’ve always admired the way you looked in your garden.”

The steaming cup of coffee fell to the ground, shattering on the interlaid pavers there. It was no matter. The coffee was forgotten as she turned and found Ichabod standing immediately behind her.

“Crane! What…I thought you’d…what?”

Ichabod’s breath was stolen at the sight of Abbie standing in her garden, wearing nothing but his sweater. If he was honest with himself, he never wanted to see her wear anything else again, unless of course she was simply wearing nothing else but a smile. He stopped her surprised questioning by placing his hands on either side of her face and imbued her lips with every deep emotion he’d felt for her over the last few months. When he at last came up for air, he answered all the questions he was sure she had floating in her head.

“When I woke up this morning and saw you lying there, I wanted nothing more than to never leave your side. It wasn’t the most rational thought that I had, but thoughts of the heart rarely are.”

“So you just got up and left, went back to your condo, hung out for a while and came back?”

“Oh no, I went to the airport. I grabbed my bags and ticket and made my way there. I checked in and everything. In fact, I am now conveniently without clothes until the airline returns my bags. But I was sitting there thinking about you.”

Abbie couldn’t hold back her smile. “You were thinking about me?”

Ichabod led her over to one of her oversized patio chairs, sat, and then pulled her firmly onto his lap.

“Yes, I was thinking about you. I was thinking about your tenacity, your brilliance, your smile. I was thinking about your unabashed joy in life and all that it has to offer, your work ethic and your devotion to your friends and family. I thought about your sensitivity and how you hold so much back and can be fiercely guarded, how your eyes light up when you’re happy, the magical sound of your voice.”

Abbie was listening raptly to everything Ichabod was saying. With each trait that he listed out, she melted further and further into him until her head rested in the hollow of his neck and her hand twisted his shaggy hair in tiny little knots. With her other hand, she idly paraded her fingers over the planes of his chest through his t-shirt.

“You seemed to be doing an awful lot of thinking for so early in the morning,” Abbie said as she smiled into his neck, peppering it with kisses.

“You inspire great thoughts, Miss Mills, and after the night we shared, now knowing the feel and taste of you and the sounds you make when it’s just you and I, nothing else would come to mind— save for you.”

Ichabod’s hands roamed the bare planes of her legs and slowly began inching the hem of the sweater up her side.

“What about London? What about going home and your family?”

“I still have a flat in New York and there is nothing pressing for me back in London right now.” Ichabod bent his head to Abbie’s and slide his tongue sweetly between her lips. He took his time, enjoying the feel of her tongue battle against his. He pulled away from her long enough to shed his shirt while Abbie’s fingers nimbly unfastened his pants. He pulled the sweater over her head and tossed it aside as if it was no longer fetching but infested and tainting her beautiful skin.

“I endeavor to stay with you no matter where you are, Abbie.”

Ichabod situated Abbie over his straining cock.

“You are my home, Abbie,” he whispered as he entered her.

Ichabod spent the better portion of an hour proving to Abbie how much like home she felt. When their flesh could no longer take the sun’s rays and all of their energy had been spent, Ichabod carried Abbie’s petite and languid form back to bed where they spent the rest of the day smiling, sighing and sleeping the hours away.

________________________________________

_8 weeks later…_

“That show was amazing! I’m so happy you finally agreed to come out and hang with us Abs.”

Joanna Oliver looped her arm through Abbie’s as they strutted down the now quiet Brooklyn streets. They’d just left a night club that played amazing jazz music. On tonight’s docket was a local up and coming artist who crooned like Etta James. It was one of the few times Abbie had just relaxed in the last few weeks.

Initially, she and Ichabod had spent a week or two entangled in New York simply enjoying the serenity that goes along with new love. Inevitably however, he had to get back home. They had Skype and Face Time. They called each other constantly, but it wasn’t the same as being with each other. The lingering uncertainty about their show made it worse. News that their show runner was leaving was both good and bad, but no one from the network was filing them in on the goings on behind the scenes.

The stress of not knowing had strained their communications but Abbie didn’t want to think about it anymore. There was no doubt in her mind that Ichabod Crane was the one for her. They loved it each other; that much was a given. She just needed a break, anything really, to take her mind off of the unknown and tonight had provided her with that. She’d even left her phone at home just to disconnect from it all for a bit.

“I’m glad I came out too! I feel like it’s been forever since we’ve chilled.”

“Well… when you’re too busy getting some, that tends to happen.”

“Shut up!” Abbie laughed then turned to hug her friend as they had reached her Brownstone. “Thanks, Jo really. I needed the distraction.”

“Anytime, Abbie.” Joanna squeezed her tightly. “Call me and we’ll set up brunch or something.”

“Will do.”

Abbie watched her friend walk to the corner and hail a cab before heading up the stairs. Unlocking her door, she headed inside and up the side stairs to her apartment. She looked down as she inserted her key into the lock when she noticed that there was light coming from beneath the door.

She had turned all of the lights off before she left. She always turned all of her lights off when she was headed out for the day. She barely had time to think of what she should do when the tumbler flipped from the inside and the door swung open.

“Oh thank goodness you’re alright!”

Ichabod enveloped Abbie in the tightest embrace she’d felt in weeks. Had it not been for the amazing way it felt to be in his arms after weeks of his absence, she’d have been far more pissed than she was now.

“What the fuck, Crane? You can’t just scare the shit out of someone like that.”

“I’d been calling you all day! When you didn’t answer, after the first dozen calls, I got nervous and booked a flight. I called you mom to see if she’d heard from you. There’s news…”

“You called my mother?” Abbie pushed herself back and then around him into her apartment. She was pissed. She knew it was irrational to be this upset, but she was anyway. “Seriously? What the hell?” Abbie cast her jacket, keys and purse off and onto her couch.

“I was worried about you and I needed to talk to you about…”

“Clearly! You flew all the way over the fucking Atlantic Ocean because you were worried about me.”

With that statement, her anger deflated. He looked so torn up, so lost and here she was, losing her shit because he’d surprised her. She knew she shouldn’t have given him a copy of her key.

“I’m sorry. I’m not upset and I shouldn’t be screaming at you. You just scared me half to death. It’s one in the morning and I wasn’t expecting anyone to be in my apartment. Least of all you.”

“You wouldn’t have been surprised had you just answered your damn phone.”

“I didn’t have it with me.”

“And why not?”

“Because I needed a break from you!”

Ichabod stood in shock. He’d been dying to see her now for weeks. He was well aware that things had been strained since he’d gone back to London, but he loved her. He thought she loved him. To know she felt differently pierced his soul in a way he couldn’t begin to comprehend.

Abbie saw the look on his face and immediately regretted what she had said. Noticing that her apartment door was still wide open, she moved beyond him and closed it, coming back around to stand in front of him and grab his hands. He tried to snatch them back but she held tight.

“That’s not what I meant, Crane.”

“I take your meaning very clearly, Miss Mills.”

“No, you don’t.” Abbie lowered her head and took a deep breath. She needed to build up her courage for this. While she’d never had a problem talking to Ichabod, learning to let someone so deeply into her soul and lowering her walls was still something she was working on.

“When you went back to England, I thought it would be okay. I thought _I_ would be okay.” Abbie brought her eyes up to his. She needed to make sure he completely understood her.

“I’ve done the long distance thing before. It’s hard and it usually ends in heartache but with you it was different. With you, being that far apart, it wasn’t just hard; it was excruciating. Chatting with you every day, seeing your face and hearing your voice but knowing that you weren’t actually here was killing me.”

“I am so stupidly and ridiculously in love with you that I couldn’t handle not being with you or knowing whether or not we’d even be seeing each other regularly anymore.”

Ichabod looked at Abbie. He truly looked at her and listened to her. He knew that sharing the deepest intimacies of her heart was a lot for her. Yet here she was, standing before him, not just telling him how much she loved him, but also sharing her fear with him. If he had been hurt before, he couldn’t remember it. All he wanted to do was wrap her up in his arms and tell her it was all going to be okay. Instead he loosened his hands from hers, cradled her face and kissed her gently.

“Oh, Abbie. Abbie, Abbie, Abbie.”

He repeated her name like a benediction and in a way it was. It washed over her like a wave, ridding her of all of the fear and anxiety she’d been feeling. This was going to be hard, but they would make it work. They had to make it work.

Ichabod looked down at her and coaxed a brilliant smile from her. They stood just smiling giddily at each other when Abbie remembered something.

“You said you had news?”

Ichabod did pull her into his arms this time, tilting her head back to gaze into her deeply brown eyes.

“You won’t have to be without me for very long.” Abbie looked at him curiously but let him finish his thought. “We’ve been renewed.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Sleepy Hollow or any of the characters there in.


End file.
